


In-Flight Entertainment

by HakeberHooligan



Series: Sterek Bingo 2019 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Based on a True Story, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, SBTrain, Sterek Bingo 2019, There's an abundance of adorkableness, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 19:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HakeberHooligan/pseuds/HakeberHooligan
Summary: “You okay there? First time flying?” The person - a guy - sitting next to him says. Stiles wishes he weren’t trying so hard not to hyperventilate, so he could properly appreciate the silky smooth tones. Instead, he keeps his eyes firmly shut, and shakes his head a little.“Nope. Just my first time flying alone.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “You’d think that by legal drinking age, I wouldn’t need anyone to hold my hand for takeoff. Yet here we are.”Or, in which a handsome stranger offers Stiles some comfort, and things snowball from there.For the 2019 Sterek Bingo prompt: Strangers on a Train





	In-Flight Entertainment

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeey guys 😊 I read this tweet thread, and I couldn't resist turning it into some super fluffy Sterek action! To think that this actually happened is just so completely adorable. You're never to old to fall in love ❤️💕
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> Via: https://twitter.com/vvuxian/status/1119282668200452097?s=19
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> Also, there's a text conversation between Scott and Stiles at one point, and it's all screenshots. if you're having trouble reading it, the transcript is in the end notes!

 

     Stiles is nervous. Chewing his hoodie string, jiggling his leg, picking at a stray thread on his pants… man, he hated flying.  _ Hated  _ it. To make matters infinitely worse, this is the first time he’s flown alone. And sure, he’s twenty-one, not a kid anymore, but tell that to his anxiety.

     At least he has a window seat, which is nice. It’s not the height that scares him as much as the ‘being in a huge chunk of metal that’s however many thousands of feet  above the ground, unattached to literally anything’ that does. He doesn’t know the pilot, or the people who serviced the plane, or the person whose job it was to make sure there was enough jet fuel. He was supposed to just blindly trust all those people. What if someone has a bad day? What if they’re hungover, or just plain don’t give a fuck?

     He closes his eyes and leans his head back on the headrest, willing his mind to stop running circles. He has a four-hour flight  to Atlanta, followed by a ninety-minute connector to Orlando and it simply won’t do to have a panic attack at any given point. All they have to do is get into the air. Once they hit their cruising altitude, it always gets easier.

     He finds himself cursing the others for leaving the day before. Honestly, it’s his own fault. Mostly. They agreed on heading out Friday morning since they planned the trip to Orlando two months ago. His asshole boss refused to give him the day off though.  _ ‘You should be thankful that you’re getting an entire week off in the first place. We need you on Friday. And don’t even  _ think _ about calling out the Monday you’re due back.’  _ Yeah, Morris is a jackass, but Stiles has bills up he ass and his job just so happens to pay them.

     So now he’s trailing a day behind Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jordan, Jackson, and Malia. It’s bullshit, it sucks, but it is what it is. And if the endgame is a week in Orlando, spending his days at Disney World and Universal Studios, then it’s not such a bad exchange.

     He hears someone sit down next to him. _Great._ He had been hoping that the seat would remain empty. He has an undeniable urge to fill awkward silences with talking, and more often than not it gets him into trouble. He stills remember the look on his dad’s face when they’d visited NYC six years ago and Stiles couldn’t help himself from the word vomit that flowed forth when he sat next to a stranger on the subway. The kid had been about his age, and instead of talking to Stiles, all he did was grip his backpack tighter and look down at the floor. That didn’t deter Stiles though, and he kept talking all the way until the next stop, where the kid had all but ran off the train. 

     He doesn’t even have time to glance at the person because the flight attendant has started her little spiel, and the engines are firing up. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, gritting his teeth and grasping both armrests so hard that he’s certain his knuckles are white.

     “You okay there? First time flying?” The person - a guy - sitting next to him says. Stiles wishes he weren’t trying so hard not to hyperventilate, so he could properly appreciate the silky smooth tones. Instead, he keeps his eyes firmly shut, and shakes his head a little.

     “Nope. Just my first time flying alone.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “You’d think that by legal drinking age, I wouldn’t need anyone to hold my hand for takeoff. Yet here we are.”

     He swallows thickly and focuses on his breathing, willing himself to take deep, slow breaths. The guy doesn’t respond, and Stiles takes it as his cue to shut up. Which is probably for the best, really. Who knows what would come out of his mouth at a time like this. The plane starts moving down the runway, and an extremely embarrassing, tiny whine bubbles it’s way out of his throat. It’s getting harder to breathe, and he feels like he’s sucking in air through a straw. Why,  _ why,  _ does he have to be like this? The pilot is probably having an awesome day, zero suicidal thoughts, and the guy who fueled the plane-

     He startles when he feels a large, warm hand close over his own. The guy next to him has casually placed his right hand over Stiles’ left, all without a word. He’s no expert on hands, mostly knows just his own, but this particular hand feels nice. It’s strong, and not clammy, and the skin is smooth, and it should probably be super awkward but mostly it feels comforting.

_      Fuck it,  _ Stiles thinks. He flips his hand so he can grip the man like he’s a lifeline. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time, is probably crushing the dude’s hand, but he doesn’t say anything. Just gives Stiles’ hand a reassuring squeeze. 

     After a few minutes, the plane isn’t at such a severe angle anymore and the knot that had formed in Stiles’ chest loosens. He sighs, and eases up on the guy’s hand.

     “Thanks,” He says, opening his eyes to peek at the guy sitting next to him, and  _ damn.  _ This is completely unfair, because he looks like a GQ model. He has a dark grey two-piece suit with a white button-down underneath, and a slim blue tie. He’s wearing thick-rimmed black glasses, and Stiles has always had a thing for the nerd look, it’s no secret. His dark hair is artfully tousled, and short stubble adorns his jaw and chin. 

     The man is currently in the process of unbuttoning the jacket with his left hand. Stiles can literally  _ feel  _ his brain short-circuiting. There’s a very real possibility that wisps of smoke are curling out of his ears. The guy is smiling softly at him, and  _ is it hot in here? _

     “It’s honestly no problem. Are you okay now?” He asks, looking Stiles directly in the eye. Stiles almost wants to say no, hold his hand for a little while longer, but that would be taking advantage. The guy’s already gone above and beyond airplane-neighbor etiquette, and it would be rude to expect more from him.

     “Uh, yeah. Thanks. Again, I mean. I’m Stiles, by the way.” Stiles stumbles over his words as he lets go of his hand. “So they’ll just let any ol’ Adonis on these flights, huh?”

     The man’s eyebrows shoot up, and  _ Jesus Christ why can’t his mouth ever behave?! _

     “I was joking. Well, I wasn’t, but I didn’t mean it. Okay, I  _ did  _ mean it, what I meant was I didn’t mean to  _ say _ it, and sometimes my brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t work, and by sometimes I mean all times-” he covers his face with his hands and groans into them. “I’m just going to shut up.”

     The dude is chuckling, seemingly unfazed by Stiles’ chronic verbal diarrhea.

     “Nice to meet you, Stiles. And while Adonis is fine, these days I mostly go by Derek.” He sounds more amused than anything.

     Stiles peeks through his fingers at the guy- Derek, and then drops his hands.

     “Wow, you handle me better than I handle myself.”

     “Eh, I know how I look in a suit.” There’s a little smirk on his lips, and now Stiles is thinking that this guy is extremely conceited, and he’s just over here stroking his ego. It rankles him.

     “I’ve seen better,” Stiles quickly retorts, and  _ why the everliving fuck is he like this? _ He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. He’s  _ so  _ done with his mouth today. When he opens them back up, Derek is regarding him curiously, head cocked. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m really stressed about flying alone. It’s stupid, I know. But there’s so many factors that could go wrong, and of course my mind likes to pick apart every possibility, and I get snarky when I get nervous.”

     “Understandable,” Derek replies. “I’ve been flying since I was a toddler, and I still don’t care for it.”

     Derek’s phone interrupts them with a ding, and he pulls it out from an inner pocket in his blazer. He reads the screen before snorting and firing off a reply, his thumbs rapidly moving across the screen. Stiles watches in interest, but doesn’t attempt to read the message. When Derek’s done, he tucks his phone back into his pocket and leans back into his seat with a wiggle of his shoulders.

     The nice thing to do would be to leave the man alone and let him enjoy his plane ride. But it’s a  _ four hour  _ flight, and Stiles isn’t good at the whole ‘sit still look pretty’ thing, on both counts. He fidgets for all of thirty seconds before his curiosity gets the best of him.

     “So, business or pleasure?” He asks.

     “Business,” Derek replies with a sigh, but it’s not directed at him. “A branch in our company fucked up royally, and now the Orlando office is in desperate need of some leadership. My uncle sent me to clean up the mess and get things into order.” Stiles hums sympathetically. Derek sounds like he would really rather be doing anything else. “So, family business then? What do you do?”

     Derek cocks his head at Stiles again, casting him a scrutinizing - although not unfriendly - look.

     “My family owns a law firm. My parents, my uncle, his wife and kids, my sisters and I all work there. It’s a national company, but we hold most of the seats on the board. I try to stay away from the corporate side as much as possible, though. I passed the bar exam last year, so I’ve been sticking to the lawyering side of things.”

     “Huh. That’s pretty cool. I’ll be starting my third year at college in the fall, double majoring in law and criminal justice.”

     “Oh really? What career are you pursuing?”

     “Ultimately, I’m thinking detective. It’s always been something I’ve been interested in. My dad’s the sheriff, and I used to go through his cases and stuff. Even solved a few for him.”

     Derek gives him a look. It’s the same look his father gives him when he finds Stiles rooting through case files in his office. 

     “Hey! It’s a generally small town, and I read everything in confidence. Also, I’m pretty damn good at it, and it was practically child labor since I didn’t get paid. So if anyone broke the law, it certainly wasn’t  _ me.” _

     Derek rolls his eyes, and Stiles changes the subject.

     “So, Orlando? I’m headed there too. My friends and I are going to spend the week at the theme parks.”

     “Have you heard about the new Marvel features they have at Disney?” Derek asks, and just like that they’re lost in conversation. They have a surprising amount of things in common, and Stiles is kind of surprised that Derek is a lawyer, because he seems really freaking cool. The first time he makes Derek laugh, he can’t help but grin stupidly. It’s a sound that he immediately falls in love with and actively strives to make him do it again.

     They argue over the merits of Star Wars, agree that Marvel is better than DC, and Stiles has to stop himself from full-on slapping Derek upside the head when he admits that he hasn’t seen  _ or  _ read The Lord of the Rings.

     “Dude! It’s like,  _ the best.  _ How do you even live? Your life must be so dull. This is unbelievable. And I was really starting to like you, too.”

     Stiles snaps his mouth shut, realizing too late what he’s said. Derek ducks his head a little and blushes. And  _ oh,  _ but maybe that means that he’s been on the same line of thought as Stiles? Stiles clears his throat, and goes for a distraction.

     “So, are you from LA?” That’s where they flew out from. Derek nods.

     “Yeah. Originally though, I’m from Beacon Valley.”

     “No shit,” Stiles says. “I’m from Beacon Hills, the neighboring town.”

     Derek’s eyebrows shoot up.

     “Your father, you said he’s the Sheriff… he wouldn’t be John Stilinski, would he?”

     Stiles always feels a swell of pride in his chest when people recognize his father as the sheriff. More often than not, it’s because he’s helped them in one way or another. He’s a damn good Sheriff.

     “Yup. That’s him.”

     Derek inhales sharply as look of surprise flits across his features.

     “Wow, that’s… what a small world. Four years ago we had a house fire. The whole thing went up in flames. My younger sister and my cousins, they were trapped on the second floor. There was no way the fire department was getting there on time - we lived far out in the Preserves - and your father had seen the blaze while he was patrolling. He single-handedly saved all three of them.”

     Stiles has to blink away tears and swallow past a lump in his throat. He remembers that night. He’d been furious when Melissa had come to his house and told him that his father was in the hospital due to first-degree burns and smoke inhalation. He’d been angry to hide the fact that he’d also been  _ so  _ scared that he could have lost his only remaining parent that night.

     “Wow.” He says gruffly. “I remember. Not you, of course, but I remember that night. I was pissed that he’d risked his life like that, but when he told me it was for three kids, I couldn’t stay mad. There’s no way he would have been able to stand by and let them die.”

     They both fall quiet for a minute, lost in separate thoughts of the same event.

     “Hey, so can I ask you something personal?” Stiles says slowly. Derek clears his throat and nods. “Team Jacob or Team Edward?”

     Derek laughs, and Stiles basks in it. Sobering thoughts of the fire are forgotten, and easy conversation continues to flow. Stiles is a little blindsided when they start descending to land at the Atlanta airport. He’s never had four hours fly by so fast in his life- pun most definitely intended.

     They get off the plane and start walking through the airport. Stiles pulls out his itinerary and searches for the information on his flight to Orlando before squinting at the large screen where all the flights are listed.

     “Okay, flight 611 to Orlando is this way.” He starts to walk, but stops when he notices Derek isn’t following him. He’s staring at the opposite direction with a pinched look on his face.

     “I have flight 2316.” He points his thumb behind him, sounding resigned.

     “Oh… well, what time do you land?”

     “It’s scheduled for 5:45.”

     “Oh, okay. Mine is scheduled to land at 6:30…”

     Well this kind of sucks. Stiles thought he’d have a little more time with Derek, at least while they waited for their plane in the terminal. But it looks like things are being cut short. It’s kind of ridiculous that he already really likes this guy, despite only knowing him for a few hours. He bites his lip and takes a deep, steadying breath.

     “Okay, well thanks for keeping me company during the flight. I guess I might see you around-”

     “Do you want to get some coffee after you land in Orlando?” Derek asks suddenly. “If you’re not busy, of course. I don’t have to be at the firm until tomorrow morning, so I have tonight to myself. If that’s something you want to do, no pressure if you don’t.” The last sentence comes out as a rush, and now Stiles is blushing, because hot people getting flustered when they talk to him is something that happens approximately never.

     “Oh my god, yes.” He doesn’t even care if he sounds stupidly relieved. “Do you want to give me your number? I’ll give you a ring when I land.”

     He hands Derek his phone, and Derek types in his number. When he hands it back their hands touch, and they both linger. Derek gives Stiles a small smile, and Stiles grins stupidly.

     “So, good luck on your next flight. Maybe another Adonis will hold your hand for you,” Derek jokes.

     “Nah, I still have fresh memories of the last Adonis. It’ll tide me over.” Stiles gives him a wink. They stand there for a few more seconds, awkward silence stretching between them. Stiles doesn’t want to walk away, so desperately doesn’t  _ want  _ to, because then the moment will be over and Derek will be gone.

     “So… I’ve gotta catch my flight.”

     “Oh! Yeah, short layovers are a bitch,” Stiles replies. “But I’ll see you when I land? I’ll call you and we can meet somewhere in the airport.”

     “That sounds like a plan,” Derek says, and  _ oh man, _ if Stiles doesn’t walk away now he’s going to do something embarrassing, like flinging himself at this gorgeous stranger. So he says “Cool beans, my man,” and turns heel, cringing and silently slapping himself at the world’s worst goodbye as he walks away.

     His layover is 2 hours. He thinks about texting Derek, but holds off. He doesn’t want to appear clingy or desperate. So instead, he texts Scott.

 

 

 

     Stiles stares smugly at his phone. Yeah, his friends can  _ try _ to embarrass him, but he always comes out on top. He texts back and forth with Scott for the rest of his layover, switching over between that and playing idle games to fill the time. They chat about Derek for a little more, and then move on to other things like how awesome the Disney suite that they’re staying in is.

     They opted for a suite with three separate bedrooms. Stiles doesn’t mind taking the couch, seeing as a suite with four beds would have been an extra $100 a night. Nope, the seventh wheel of their little group can save some money. It’s not like he’s going to be getting into any extracurricular shenanigans anyways. Although, now…

     After what seems like half the time, his plane is up for boarding. He loads up, and by the time it’s takeoff, the seat beside him remains empty. He feels a little sad that it isn’t being filled by Derek, but it’s better than having to sit by someone who will pester him for the whole flight. You know, someone like himself.

     Takeoff isn’t as bad as it usually is; all he has to do is remember how his hand felt in Derek’s, and keep his mind on the fact that he gets to actually see him again, that Derek _wants_ to see him. He gets that butterfly feeling in his stomach that has nothing to do with the climbing altitude.

     This flight is the longest ninety minutes of his life. He tools around on his phone, plays some games to pass the time, but it doesn’t really help. All he can think about is seeing Derek again. If he’s lucky, he might even get to hold his hand for a second time. He’d like that.

     The plane lands after what feels like a small eternity, and it’s a maddeningly slow process to deplane. When he’s finally free and in the airport, he heads to the luggage carousel and pulls out his phone to call Derek. It rings and rings, then eventually goes to voicemail.

     “Um hey, it’s Stiles. I realize that I never texted you so you’d have my number, and maybe you didn’t pick up because you didn’t realize it was me. So, I guess I’ll just let you call me back? I’m getting my luggage right now. Yeah. Okay. See you soon.” 

     He hangs up, and worries his bottom lip the whole time he’s waiting for his suitcase. He’s constantly looking at his phone, and nearly jumps in excitement when it pings. But it’s only a text message from Scott asking if he’s landed safely. Stiles replies _ yeah, see you tonight,  _ then pockets his phone.

     His suitcase comes around the belt five minutes later, but Derek is still nowhere to be seen. His flight should have landed forty-five minutes ago, so he definitely had the time to get here. Stiles grabs his suitcase and pulls the handle out, then heads to one of the customer service desks. He checks his phone six more times before he reaches the front of the line. When he does, there’s a petite woman standing behind the counter, giving  him a wide smile.

     “Hi, how can I help you today?”

     “Yeah, um. So I was supposed to meet someone who was on flight 2316 from Atlanta, landed about an hour ago? He’s not picking up his phone, so I was wondering if you could see whether he made the flight or not? Maybe he missed it or something.”

     “Oh, I’m sorry but I can’t give out information about other passengers, past the fact that the plane  _ did  _ land on time.”

     He’s working really hard not to let the anxiety that he’s feeling claw its way to the surface, but it’s a close call. Tears are pricking at his eyes, and he blinks them away furiously. She gives him a sympathetic smile. 

     “Do you have any other way of reaching him?”

     He smiles sadly at her with dewey eyes, and shakes his head.

     “No. I uh, I met him on the plane. We sat next to each other on the four hour flight from LA, but we had different connecting flights from Atlanta to here. I’m just  _ so  _ bad at flying alone, and he held my hand when we took off, and we talked, and he made me laugh… and I think I might have fallen for the guy.” His voice cracks at the end, because  _ holy shit.  _ He really likes Derek, and he hadn’t realized that it was already something closer to infatuation. He bites his lip so it doesn’t tremble.

     At least the customer service woman -her name tag says her name is Vivian - doesn’t make fun of him. Instead, she looks like she’s just as invested in this as he is.

     “His phone probably died,” she says with conviction. Stiles nods, because that’s a whole hell of a let better to believe than thinking that maybe the spark between them was only a one-way thing. But Derek had been the one to ask for coffee.  _ He _ had asked. “I’ll tell you what. Leave your name and number with me. I bet you dollars to donuts that he’s just as upset that he can’t reach you. That way,  _ when  _ he comes over here looking for you, I can give him your number. Sound good?”

     Bless this woman, because Stiles is dangerously close to losing it in public. He writes doing his name and number on a slip of paper, and gives it to her. She folds it up and sticks it in her pocket with a wink. Stiles wanders away, feeling slightly lost. He doesn’t want to seem desperate, but sends Derek a text anyways:

**Hey, landed about half an hour ago, waiting to hear from you.**

     He pockets his phone with a sigh, and meanders around the various stores, not really sure what to do with himself. Maybe he’ll just stay out until nine, and then go to the hotel and make up some story about how Derek was great and all, but they aren’t as compatible as he initially thought. He’s already gushed about him to Scott, and Scott has undoubtedly told their entire group. He doesn’t think he can handle Jackson poking fun at him for the whole week.

     He plays the entire plane ride back in his head, scrutinizing every detail. Sure, they’d started off rocky, but he could tell that Derek was enjoying their conversation. Why would you ask someone out for coffee if you didn’t want to see them again? He could have just as easily said, ‘Hey, it’s been real, see you later!’. It would have sucked, and Stiles would have pined over him for weeks, but that’s more preferable to an empty promise of  _ more. _

     He doesn’t keep track of how long he peruses countless shops, wasting time until he can decide what to do. It’s been a while though, and chances are Derek has written him off. He comes up with elaborate reasons in his head as to why Derek isn’t answering him. Maybe he had gotten flagged by airport security, and was subjected to an awful strip-search. Stiles can’t say that he wouldn’t abuse the power, seeing a guy like him in a suit like that.

     He’s about to just give up and admit defeat when his phone rings. He grabs for it so fast that he fumbles and drops it. He swears, quickly scooping it up, and sees an unfamiliar number on the screen.

     “Hello?” He says breathlessly when he answers the call. 

     “Hey Stiles, it’s Vivian. There’s a  _ very  _ handsome man asking for you over at the customer service counter.” Stiles nearly topples over in relief. “He’s asking if he can talk to you. Hold on.”

     He can hear the phone passing hands before Derek’s voice is at the other end.

     “Stiles, I am  _ so  _ sorry! I dropped my stupid phone between that thing that connects the plane to the terminal, and it fell between the crack and like twenty feet to the ground. It was ruined.”

     Stiles is already rushing to the customer service desk, dragging his luggage behind him like a madman.

     “It’s okay! I’m still here! I’m heading your way now. I… god, I thought you were double-guessing yourself, Derek.”

     The tears are back, but they’re happy tears this time.

     “No, definitely not. My phone is completely shot, and then I had to call my uncle, let him know what happened, and the ass - sorry ma’am, didn’t mean to swear - he kept me on the phone for almost  _ two  _ hours at this rinky-dink payphone, and I couldn’t move, and the whole time I was thinking about how you were probably calling me… I thought I’d lost your number forever, Stiles. I was… I was damn-near heartbroken.”

     Stiles laughs and it comes out closer to a sob. He’s pushing through the crowd, having difficulty seeing where he’s going, but it doesn’t matter, because Derek’s there, waiting for him,  _ wanting  _ him.

     “Hey, I have to get off their phone, but I’ll be right here, Stiles. I’m waiting for you.”

     “Okay. Yeah, give me five minutes. I have to navigate this maze of an airport.”

     He hangs up before Derek can say anything else. He’s so bad with goodbyes, even if he is seeing the person in five minutes. He weaves his way through the crowd, towing his suitcase behind him. With every step, he knows that’s one step that closer to Derek, and it feels a little crazy that someone he just met is having such an effect on him, but he doesn’t care.

     He turns a corner, and far down the corridor he can see Derek, standing off to the side and pacing in that fantastic fucking suit. He’s taken off the jacket, and the sleeves are folded up to just below his elbows. His eyebrows are knit together, and he looks a lot like how Stiles feels.

     “Derek!” He yells, taking off at a brisk pace. Derek looks up, and his entire face transforms. He lets loose a thousand gigawatt smile, and starts walks towards Stiles with intent. There’s still so much space between them though, and Stiles can’t hold back any more. He drops his suitcase handle and breaks into a run, sidestepping random people. They seem to have caused a scene, and the rest of the crowd is parting for them, and he has a direct route to Derek. Derek’s running too, and Stiles can’t help the huge grin that breaks out on his face.

     They meet in the middle, crashing into each other. Stiles throws his arms around Derek’s neck, and he thinks he might have taken it too far. But Derek is right on the same line of thought, wrapping his own arms around Stiles’ middle. Derek picks him up and spins him around, and Stiles can’t help but throw his head and laugh. It’s so goddamn cheesy, but he loves it. Derek sets him down and pulls back, but it’s only for a second because then he’s leaning in and brushing his lips against Stiles’.

     Stiles isn’t content with feather-touches, and pushes forward to lock their lips together. His stubble prickles at Stiles’ skin, and it’s such a stark contrast from his soft lips, it’s a dizzying combination. Or maybe he’s dizzy because he’s just been spun around like a fair maiden.

     Stiles has to pull away so he can laugh; at his own thoughts, at the ridiculous situation, at the fact that he’s just so damn  _ happy _ right now. It takes a second for him to register that he’s hearing clapping, whooping, and cheering. He turns to see what all the hullabaloo is about, when he realizes it’s  _ them.  _ Pretty much everyone in the corridor has stopped to watch their dramatic reunion.

     Stiles smirks like a dumbass at the attention and lets go of Derek so he can bow low at the gathered crowd. Several people chuckle, and the crowd starts to disperse. He turns back to Derek, who’s grinning from ear to ear.

     “That was…” Derek says, looking slightly dazed.

     “Yeah,” Stiles agrees. “Wow.”

     “Am I crazy? For falling so hard so fast?” Derek asks.

     “Nah, man. You’re just as sane as I am.”

     Derek throws his head back and laughs. Stiles beams, soaking in the sound that he’s certain he’ll never grow tired of.

     “So, Coffee?” Derek asks.

     “How about we do dinner? I’m starving, and I’d really like to wine and dine you.” He waggles his eyebrows for effect.

     “Why Stiles, are you asking me on a date?” Derek replies, hand to his chest, feigning scandalization.

     “Oh, give me a few hours, and  _ you’ll _ be asking  _ me _ to your room.”  _ Oh my goooooood why.  _ He facepalms in embarrassment, and he’s certain that his face is flushed pink. “Just, please have patience with my lack of filter. It’s a condition.”

     Derek chuckles.

     “I like your lack of filter. It means we don’t have to dance around me trying to finesse my way into you agreeing to spend the night.”

     Stiles snaps his head up to look at Derek, wide-eyed and slack jawed. Then he grins.

     “I have to warn you, I only put out on the first date if the food is like,  _ really  _ good.”

     “Lucky for me, my family believes in treating yourself to the finer things in life, and I have an exorbitant per-diem.”

     He grabs Stiles’ hand firmly, entwining their fingers together. Stiles is certain that his heart is going to burst out of his chest like Jim Carrey in The Mask, and he’ll die of a heart attack. If that was the case though, he’d die happy.

     “Mr. Hale,” a man says formally as he walks up to them. “Shall I take his things as well?” He looks like a driver, probably the person that the company sent to pick Derek up. Stiles looks back to where he’d dropped his suitcase, but is surprised to see it next to him.  _ Oh.  _ Someone must have dragged it over after he abandoned it. That’s kind of nice.

     “Yes, Don, thank you.” The guy takes Stiles’ suitcase and pulls it behind himself. They’re about to follow him, when Stiles stops.

     “Vivian!”

     “What?”

     Stiles flails his arms out, gesturing to the customer service desk at the far end of the airport.

     “Vivian! She helped us. I would have sulked all the way to the hotel if she hadn’t given you my number. We have to thank her.”

     He spins in a circle, eyes skating over the several stores around them. One’s a gift shop, and they have Lindt chocolate bunnies. Who doesn’t love chocolate? He buys one, and they walk over to the desk where she’s still at.

     “I’m so glad you two found each other! That hug and kiss? Totally epic.” She gives them her best  _ aww  _ face.

     “Well, if it wasn’t for you, I doubt we would have heard from each other again. At least, not without extensive internet sleuthing and several weeks of pouting.” Stiles replies with a grin. Honestly, he thinks he hasn’t _ stopped  _ grinning since Derek kissed him. He hands her the chocolate bunny. “Here, for helping us. Seriously, you’re the absolute  _ best.” _

     She takes the chocolate with a smile.

     “I’m gonna gush about this to everyone, you two are just so adorable,” she says. “People like you guys make me believe in magical things like true love.”

     Stiles ducks his head, and steals a glance at Derek. The tips of his ears are pink, and he’s giving a shy smile.

     “Well we’re indebted to you. Thank you, Vivian,” Derek says, and  _ damn.  _ His voice was made to say sweet, sincere things like that.

     They leave the airport, still holding hands, and find where Don is parked in the line of cars. After they get in, Derek gives him an address.

     “You’re gonna love this place. The best hamburgers and fries in Orlando, hands down.”

     Stiles perks at that.

     “Yesssss I was almost worried that you were going to bring me to some fancy restaurant with portions too small to properly feed a six-year-old.”

     Derek snorts.

     “Give me burgers, pizza, and fried chicken any day, and I’m a happy man.”

     “Oh my god. Marry me.” Stiles says it unabashed, with a mischievous glint in his eye. Derek laughs again, bringing Stiles’ hand to his mouth and brushing his lips across his knuckles.

     “You have an awfully high regard for someone you just met.” Derek’s breath tickles the back of his hand.

     “I’m good with vibes, and you’re givin’ me nothing but good ones.”

     - - -

     Derek’s work wraps up Thursday morning, and Stiles is lounging in his hotel room, stretched out on his bed when he calls his uncle on speaker phone to let him know that he’ll be staying in Orlando and will fly back Sunday. His uncle isn’t pleased, but Derek reminds him that he hasn’t asked for a day off since last year, and he’s due for a break. His uncle acquiesces, but only on the condition that he gets to meet the man he kissed at the airport.

     “I- wait, what?” Derek stops from undoing the tie he’d been in the process of removing. His uncle sighs dramatically.

     “I’ll send you the link.”

_      “What  _ link?” Derek asks, perplexed.

     “I’ll see you on Sunday, dear nephew.” Is all his uncle says before hanging up. Derek looks at Stiles with a confused look.

     “Don’t look at me, he’s  _ your  _ crazy uncle.” Stiles has found that he really enjoys listening to Derek interact with his uncle, and can’t wait to meet the guy in person. He seems like the kind of asshole that’s extremely amusing.

     Derek’s phone pings, and he’s watching his screen intently before horror slowly creeps onto his face. That piques Stiles’ interest, so he hops off the bed and stands up.

     “What’s it?” He asks, circling Derek to stand behind him. Then he start laughing hysterically, because  _ really? _

     It’s Stiles and Derek running to each other like complete love-struck idiots, then Derek twirls him around and they kiss. Stiles takes his bow, and the video ends. It’s titled, ‘True Love at the Orlando Airport. I Can’t Even!!!’.

     “Holy shit, 1.3  _ million  _ views?!” Stiles says, grabbing Derek’s phone out of his hands to scroll the comments. “Dude, we’re like famous now.”

     There’s a silence that Stiles knows means Derek is fondly rolling his eyes.

     “I don’t know how good of a look a viral video is for a lawyer and a future detective.”

     “Shush,” Stiles replies, swatting his arm without taking his eyes off the screen. “You’re crushing my dreams. I bet we could get onto  _ Ellen!” _

     He texts the link to himself, then pulls his own phone out to post it to his Facebook with the caption, ‘I can’t believe someone actually got a video of this! HA! If this reaches Vivian: Yes girl, you’re invited to our wedding.’, and posts it.

     He tosses both phones on the bed and turns to Derek, who’s gotten as far as removing his blazer, and is working on unbuttoning his shirt. Stiles bats his hands aside.

     “Hey, stop doing all the fun stuff. Why undress yourself when you have a willing boyfriend?” He waggles his eyebrows, and Derek laughs.

     “Oh, so we’re official?” He asks with a smirk.

     “Derek, we’re gonna be on  _ Ellen.  _ Of course we’re official.”

     Derek’s must be the world’s most impatient man, because instead of letting Stiles have his fun, he grabs either side of his shirt and  _ tears it off.  _ There were three buttons left, but they’re gone now, flying across the room.

     “Holy  _ shit  _ balls,” Stiles gasps. “That was so hot.”

     Derek doesn’t say anything, just tackles Stiles onto the bed. Stiles yelps and giggles, only stopping when Derek shuts him up with his own mouth.

     Stiles is easily the luckiest man in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Text conversation transcript:
> 
> **DUDE**
> 
> **I THINK I JUST MET THE MAN OF MY DREAMS**
> 
> Wut
> 
> **I was flipping out like I normally do during takeoff and this Greek god of a man sitting next to me heLD MY HAND**
> 
> (Michael Jackson eating popcorn)
> 
> **IKR?!**
> 
> **And he’s on a different flight to Orlando**
> 
> **But he asked if we could meet up for coffee when I land**
> 
> **(Shaq shimmying meme)**
> 
> **I’m kind of losing my mind right now**
> 
> Allison says that u guys r gonna get married
> 
> **Omg Ally STAHP**
> 
> she said its the start of an epic romance
> 
> **I literally JUST met the dude**
> 
> Lydia wants 2 no if she can b ur bridesmaid 
> 
> **I’m going to murder you all in your sleep**
> 
> She said that shell plan ur entire wedding
> 
> **(Steve Carell I’ll kill you meme)**
> 
> (Guess I’ll die meme)
> 
> **I’m turning my phone off is2g Scotty**
> 
> ok lol ill stop
> 
> But srsly
> 
> Ur getting coffee with this guy wen u land?
> 
> **Yeah I think so**
> 
> **So I probably won’t be to the hotel until 9ish**
> 
> If u dont end up at his hotel 1st
> 
> **It has been a while since I’ve had a solid dicking**
> 
> (Blinking man meme)
> 
> Ok im turning MY phone off now
> 
> **I bet he has massive talent**
> 
> **If you get my drift**
> 
> Plz stop
> 
> **I wonder if he’ll keep his suit on**
> 
> Im literally begging u
> 
> **I don’t think I have a suit kink. At least, I didn’t before today.**
> 
> **IT’S WHAT YOU GET**
> 
> OK U WIN
> 
> For more shenanigans, here are my social medias! Fair warning, there are many memes 😂 Come sip some tea with me! ☕️🐸
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/HakeberHooligan/  
>  https://hakeberhooligan.tumblr.com/


End file.
